The Perfect Storm
by alxxiis
Summary: Telyra Ravencast's journey as Dragonborn leads her to Solstheim where she meets the first Dragonborn, Miraak. The connection via their shared nature prompts her to help save him from Apocrypha, but she may lose herself in the process.
1. The First

There had been no warning for the unpleasant sensation of being wrapped in sickly green tendrils that flew out of the pages of the dark book. No hint that something so disgusting would spring out and pull her into abysmal darkness.

Telyra's stomach turned as her feet found solid ground and her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. The sky was a pale olive color, and towers and pillars of books spread out into the thick fog that settled in the distance. Several figures stood in front of her; only one looked relatively human-like, and the others were simply masses of tentacles.

The man-shaped being spoke in the same voice she'd heard from the stones that enthralled the villagers of Raven Rock.

"The time comes soon when–What?"

The figure spun around and threw a bolt of lightning into Telyra's torso as a blue snake-like dragon landed beside the man. Her legs buckled and she fell forward, throwing her hands out in front to catch herself on the ground.

"Who are you to dare set foot here?" he asked, approaching her.

Her body tingled with the lingering effects of the lightning, paralyzing her limbs as the magic burrowed into her muscles. All she could manage was a slight lift of her head; enough to glare at the man who attacked. His robes matched the realm she'd been thrown into, as did the mask that hid his face.

"Ah," he said, stopping just a few feet in front of her. "I can feel it."

He stepped closer and knelt. Teaching out and grabbing her jaw, he tilted Telyra's head further back. The slits in the eyes of his mask were dark, but she could feel his eyes boring into hers; the hair on her neck stood on end, and her body twitched with the need to flee.

Telyra's heart pounded in her ears as he remained in front of her, seemingly searching for something. The man let out a scoff and dropped her head before standing.

"The Last Dragonborn," he spat. "You are written in the prophecies, and yet you have done little beyond killing a few dragons. Whoever led you on this path to me left you woefully unprepared."

Turning his back to her, the man continued speaking.

"You cannot stop me," he boasted. "Soon, they will finish building my temple, and I will escape this realm. I will return home, and Solstheim will be mine."

She stared at him, unable to find her voice. A tingle fluttered through her stomach and stretched to her fingertips. They itched to push her body up to a dignified position, and she felt ashamed to have been knocked to her knees.

With a gesture toward Telyra, the man ordered the tentacle clusters to send her back and climbed onto the dragon's back, taking off with a wordless command. Her eyes followed the icy dragon, or rather, the man who directed it, even as his servants descended on her. Only when they began pelting her with their magic did she pay them mind.

As each burst hit, her vision darkened until she was engulfed in pure blackness.

Light trickled into her vision as she returned to the chamber she'd found the book in. She stood in front of the pedestal, still holding the book.

"Telyra!" Erik said, reaching out to grab her shoulders.

She slammed the book shut; it gave off a loud, hollow thump as she slammed it shut.

"What happened to you?" Frea asked.

She moved next to Erik and into Telyra's view, her eyes wide and her weapon drawn.

"You read the book and then…" Her voice quieted as her eyes fell on the book in Telyra's hands.

"It was like you were here, but you weren't," Erik explained. "We could see through you!"

Telyra's gaze also dropped to the book. Her head told her to drop it, leave, forget this ordeal and focus on stopping Alduin, but… the hit to her pride was not one she could brush off. And neither was his use of the word _escape_. It twisted in her chest and clung to her lungs.

"Telyra?"

Erik's voice cut through her thoughts and pulled her back to the temple.

"Sorry," Telyra muttered. "I don't know what happened. When I opened the book, these _things_ wrapped around me and pulled me into some… place."

"What did you see?" Erik asked.

"I saw a man," she replied. "He spoke to me and then rode away on a dragon."

"Was it Miraak?" Frea asked, her voice tight.

"I believe so."

"Where?" she asked hurriedly. "Where is he? Can we reach him? Can we kill him?"

Telyra's eyes shot up to Frea's, and she hesitated before answering.

"I'm not sure," Telyra said. "I don't know where I was sent."

"But this book took you to him?" she asked, not waiting for an answer. "It is a dangerous thing, then. We should return to my village and show this to my father. Perhaps Storn can make sense of what is going on."

Telyra nodded and pulled her pack from her shoulders to push the book inside. It weighed heavily on her shoulders.

"You're taking it with you?" Erik asked.

"I'm not just going to leave it," Telyra responded.

"Come," Frea said. "Let us leave this place."

"Are you cold?" Frea asked. "Here." She handed Telyra a heavy hide blanket.

"Thanks," Telyra replied, graciously taking the blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders.

She'd been in the cold of Skyrim plenty of times, but the sheer difference in temperature from the Skaal village to Raven Rock was throwing her off body temperature. Over the chattering of her teeth, Telyra could hear the wind whistling through whatever cracks it could find in the house. Each whistle made her teeth louder.

"Do you like bristleback stew?"

Frea was stirring something in the pot over the fire; the hearty aroma caused a gnawing sensation in Telyra's stomach, and it growled in response to Frea's question.

"I've never had it," Telyra said. "But I'd eat anything right now."

Erik came inside, bringing with him a wave of icy air. He was likely asking the Skaal villagers question after question, Telyra assumed. After kicking off his boots and shedding his coat, Erik sat next to Telyra with the cold still clinging to him.

The scent of herbs and meat hung in the air, following Frea as she joined the pair on the floor in front of the fireplace. It was strange, Telyra thought, sitting there in an unfamiliar house in an unfamiliar land and not feeling completely out of place. Frea had been welcoming, granted it was likely motivated by Telyra helping uncover the source behind the Skaal's enthralling, but it was still generous. Though, Frea's father, Storn, gave an ominous warning that left Telyra feeling uneasy.

 _You could save us… or you could bring about our destruction._

"Frea," Telyra began. "What is Miraak's story?"

"His story is as old as Solstheim itself," Frea said. "They say it was a great battle between Miraak and another of the dragon priests that tore the island from the mainland. I am unsure of the truth in this story. Much of what is known has been lost through the ages."

Frea adjusted her seated position, bunching up the furs they sat on in the process.

"Miraak served the dragons before their fall from power," she continued. "As most did. A priest in their order, but unlike most, he turned against them. He made his own path, and his actions cost him dearly."

"No kidding," Erik remarked. "Winding up stuck in some slimy, squid-filled world? Not a great path."

"What made him turn against them?" Telyra asked.

Frea shrugged before continuing. "The stories say he sought to claim Solstheim for himself, and the dragons destroyed him for it."

"The dragons failed," Telyra said, more to herself than Frea.

"Yes, it would seem so."

She stood and returned to the pot to stir the stew. The warmth of her body followed, leaving Telyra with Erik's chill.

"I do not know what it is Miraak learned that gave him reason to turn on his masters," Frea spoke as she continued stirring. "Perhaps it was the discovery that he was Dragonborn. Perhaps he felt he no longer owed allegiance to that which he could devour. With his temple in ruins, I do not believe we will ever have the answer."

With the stew finished, Frea gathered two bowls and filled them with the hearty food. She offered them to Telyra and Erik who both accepted graciously. Frea returned to her spot on the floor with her own bowl as Telyra wasted no time scooping a spoonful of stew in her mouth.

"Careful!" Frea warned, shooting a concerned look at Telyra. "It will scorch your mouth."

Telyra smiled as she swallowed another spoonful.

"I can breathe fire," Telyra joked. "Hot stew can't hurt me."

Erik chuckled.

The stew settled well in Telyra's stomach, warming her better than the blanket or fire. Telyra took another bite, gnawing on the boar meat and finding it pleasantly salted.

"Is that all that's known about him?" Telyra asked after finishing her food. "It seems like so little, like it's just a myth."

"You have seen him yourself," she countered. "He is as real as you and I. His temple has been a grim reminder of the cruel path he walked those long millennia ago."

"A bad path," Erik repeated.

Telyra thought back to the skeletons that littered the land around Miraak's temple; so many bones, so many deaths. She couldn't imagine the horrors of living under the dragons' rule, though; she understood wanting to break free from such oppression. To have killed so many dragons, to have the power to do so… Her stomach turned at the thought of having to face him in battle, and yet, she was intrigued.


	2. A Warning

The sound of roars and metal greeted Telyra as she and Erik followed the steps up Saering's Watch; draugr and a dragon battled each other, not yet aware of the two. Erik pulled the sword off his back and moved in front of Telyra, preparing to fulfill his duty as the Dragonborn's defender. They paused behind a stone pillar as one of the draugr succumbed to the dragon's attacks, and they watched as the fight continued.

When the last draugr fell, Erik rushed forward in an attempt to catch the dragon off-guard. It was difficult whether his attack had the intended effect as the _dov_ were not inclined to show emotion; Erik's success in landing a blow could've been due to the dragon's already-suffered injuries.

Telyra, still unnoticed by the dragon, moved out from behind the pillar and began unleashing powerful bursts of flame at the dragon's wings. It let loose a Shout that sent a tunnel of ice toward Telyra while Erik continued slashing at its neck. It didn't take long for Telyra's and Erik's attacks to kill the dragon after its battle with the draugr.

The dragon's body collapsed after Telyra managed to land a ball of fire into the laceration in its neck and it let out a blood-chilling screech.

Her breath heavy, Telyra wiped her face with the back of her hand. The dragon's body glowed, as it always did before disintegrating and imbuing her with its power. But rather than the rush and surge of another being's soul joining with her own, the glowing tendrils flew passed her.

"This one is mine, Dovahkiin," a voice behind her said.

Telyra and Erik spun around, but she already knew who spoke. That voice was not easily forgotten.

Hands twitching and magicka ready to burst from her fingertips, Telyra readied for a fight, unwilling to allow herself to be felled as she had last time they met. But Miraak simply stood with his hands clasped together in front of him.

"Were you just standing around waiting?" she asked. "Figured you'd let us do all the dirty work?"

She imagined an eyebrow raising behind his mask.

"I cannot fight in my current condition," he explained.

"Ah," she said, relaxing her stance, though she had no reason to take his word. "You simply had no choice but to let us do the dirty work."

Erik remained ready to defend.

Miraak gave Telyra a soft scoff. "If I am to gain enough to power to return to Tamriel," he said, "I'll need to stoop to such methods. But rest assured, _mal dovahkiin_ , I will soon be more than capable of 'doing the dirty work,' as you say."

Telrya narrowed her eyes and disregarded his words.

"You've finished stealing my soul," she began. "Why are you still here?"

After glancing at Erik, he turned his attention to the Word Wall and replied, "Curiosity."

Miraak took a moment to examine the wall and spoke. "You are searching for the words to Bend Will. Did Hermaeus Mora suggest you learn this Shout?"

She stepped toward the traitorous dragon priest and shook her head at Erik when he opened his mouth to protest.

"The Skaal did," she said. "They have legends about you. They say you were the reason Solstheim separated from the mainland."

Miraak let out a soft grunt that didn't convey confirmation or denial.

Telyra reached out, her gloved fingers running across the engraved Dovahzul words. She was not yet fluent in the language, but she read it as "This stone commemorates Bhar the Stubborn, lying here as unmoving as the earth, waiting for enlightenment only to become old rather than wise."

"A rudimentary translation," he acknowledged.

The word for earth, _gol_ , was illuminated as the knowledge held in the stone was absorbed into her body. As though spoken in the gravelly voice of a dragon, the word echoed in her mind until her soul had accepted it alongside the other Shouts Telyra had learned.

Miraak took a step forward and stood next to Telyra; she saw Erik tense up from the corner of her eye.

"Hermaeus Mora created this as a means to lure me into his service," Miraak began. "He promised the missing parts of the Shout in exchange for my becoming his champion. He promised power. He promised freedom."

She looked at him and caught the soft glint of his masked eyes as he glanced at her in return.

"You would do well to not fall prey to such things," he warned before turning to colored dust and disappearing.

"A bit dramatic," Telyra muttered.

Erik stepped beside her.

"Was that him?" he asked. "Miraak?"

Telyra remained in place and nodded, before returning her attention to the newly learned beginnings of a Shout and focusing her energy on truly understanding and embracing the meaning of the word. _Gol._

"What's that word?" Erik asked when she turned away from the wall. He always asked whenever they found Word Walls.

" _Gol_ ," she said, careful not to allow her Voice to wrap around the word. "It means 'earth' or 'ground.'"

"Huh," Erik said. "Bahr the Stubborn. I think my name is better."

Telyra chuckled. "It's only slightly less corny than 'the Stubborn,'" she teased. "We should head to the Wind Stone."

"Do you think it'll work?" Erik said. "The Shout?"

"I don't know," she replied. "Keep your hands off the stone, just in case."

"I'll be sure to."

Telyra led the way back down the steps, and the pair headed to the Wind Stone. As expected, there were people from the Skaal village were building around the stone, enthralled by the rhythmic chant Miraak repeated in their minds.

"Will your Shout hurt them?" Erik asked, his eyes bouncing to each of the victims.

"I have no idea," Telyra said. "Stand behind me."

Erik did as he was told. Telyra took a breath in, channeling the _diiv_ within her, and released her Voice.

" _GOL!"_

A hum vibrated in the air as the Wind Stone began to tremble. The structures the villagers had built glowed a moment before bursting and falling apart around the stone. The liquid in the center bubbled, and a tall creature that looked as though it belonged in the deep ocean burst through. The creature roared and shot tentacle-like slime from its mouth.

"What is that?!" Erik said, moving back in front of Telrya.

"No idea!" she said.

She produced a ward just in time to avoid a second slime attack. Erik lunged and began attacking, moving as though anticipating Telyra's magic attacks and dodging just before they land. With how long they'd been friends and traveling together, they knew each other's style like it was second nature.

The scent of sweat and mildew-laden flesh hung in the dust that sprung up from the collapse of the creature's body.

Erik returned to Telrya's side, checking that she was fine after the fight.

"Check on them," she ordered.

The villagers were still coming out of their trance, unsteady and confused. As they recognized each other, their voices overlapped with questions, and they swarmed toward Telyra and Erik.

"What's going on?" a middle-aged woman asked.

"You were enthralled," Erik said. "Miraak was forcing you to build shrines."

"Miraak?" a different woman said. "From the legends?"

Telrya nodded. "But you're safe now," she said. "We're taking you back to your village."

"Thank you," the first woman said.

"The air is different," Storn said as he greeted them at the village entrance. "We are safe, which means you have succeeded."

"I think managed to save everyone," Telyra said.

Storn looked past her and Erik and nodded. "So it would seem. You two have proven yourselves allies to the Skaal, and so the Skaal shall be allies to you."

"Thank you," Telyra said.

Erik beamed and nudged Telyra. "We did good," he said. He never seemed to grow tired of being praised by those he and Telyra helped.

"I must ask more of you," Storn said. "You were successful in releasing the Wind Stone and breaking the hold on my people. Perhaps you can do the same for the rest of Solstheim."

"Of course," Erik said before Telrya could speak.

"I doubt it will fully put an end to whatever Miraak is doing," Storn began, "but it may slow his progress."

"That won't be enough," Erik replied. "We need to stop him completely."

"I cannot help with that. None here can," Storn said with a shake of his head. "Telyra will need the knowledge Miraak himself learned."

Telyra frowned and looked away from Storn. Miraak's words still sounded in her head: not his chant that enthralled the villagers, but his warning.

 _He promised power. He promised freedom. You would do well to not fall prey to such things._


	3. Down His Path

Hair clinging to her forehead and sweat burning her eyes, Telyra stepped onto the platform that had just unfolded in front of her. It looked like the petals blooming on a flower if that flower had been drenched in the slime that floods Apocrypha. In the center was a book similar to the book she'd used to get into the abysmal realm. Neloth, the Telvanni, mushroom mage, helped her reach the Black Book; after trudging through a Dwemer ruin and then battling Seekers and Lurkers, she had a difficult time feeling grateful for his help.

Telyra stood in front of the book, her hand hesitating to pull open the cover. The tendrils that pulled her into the realm whenever she opened a Black Book were discomforting, to say the least. She didn't know what to expect when opening one in the realm itself.

As she opened the book, the air just above it darkened and formed into a mass of tentacles and eyes.

"All seekers of knowledge come to me, sooner or later," a deep, slow-speaking voice spoke from somewhere among the eyes.

Telyra grimaced, disgusted by the sheer sight and sound.

"Hermaeus Mora," she said, not hiding her vile tone.

He made himself known when she first entered the book, taunting her abilities and daring her to discover the secrets of his realm. And here he was, once again, no doubt ready to spew further teasing.

"What do you want?"

"You have entered my realm," the Daedric Prince replied. "You have sought out the forbidden knowledge that only one other has obtained. You are Dragonborn, like Miraak before you. A seeker of knowledge and power."

Her stomach turned at the mention of Miraak. Again, she thought of his warning to avoid following his path, and yet, here she was.

"All that he knows he learned from me," Mora continued. "You have no hope of defeating him without acquiring that knowledge for yourself."

Frowning, Telyra looked down at the book in front of her, questioning whether it was worth following Miraak's path to stop him from conquering Solstheim. He wound up trapped in Apocrypha for millennia for his dealings with Mora; no doubt the Daedric Prince would force her into as severe a position in exchange for the knowledge she sought.

But she couldn't think of any other options. Unless she could convince Miraak to abandon his plans and settle with being trapped in Oblivion for the rest of his unending life.

"I couldn't do that," she muttered to herself.

She would rather die fighting than be trapped; perhaps it was the draconic nature of her soul, but she couldn't imagine believing otherwise even if she weren't Dragonborn.

"What do I need to know?" she asked begrudgingly.

If floating masses of tentacles and eyeballs could smirk, she was sure Mora would be.

"It's what you want to know," he corrected. "You wish to bend the world to your will. It is the nature of the dragon. And for a Dragonborn... sapien nature is also inclined to seek domination."

"That's not really my kink," she retorted.

"The second Word of Power," Mora said, obviously ignoring her offhand comment, "will bend the wills of mortals to your purpose."

His words made the hair on her neck stand.

"But this is not enough," he continued. "Miraak knows the final Word of Power. Without that, you cannot hope to surpass him."

She raised a brow.

"Why?" she asked. "Why do I need more of this Shout? The first Word is enough to break his control of the Stones."

"The addition of the final Word allows the control of the dragons," he explained. "It allows him control of you. If you do understand the Shout, you cannot defend against it."

"I guess..." she trailed off, letting out a defeated sigh, "I don't know what else to do."

"Miraak served me well, and he was rewarded," Mora began. "I can grant you the same power he wields, but all knowledge has its price."

Her fingers crackled and warmed with her magicka reacting to her nerves.

"What do you want from me?"

"Knowledge for knowledge," he said. His voice took on a near-hateful tone. "The Skaal have withheld their secrets from me for many long years. The time has come for this knowledge to be added to my library."

"I doubt the Skaal will just offer up their secrets," Telyra said.

"My servant, Miraak, would have found a way to bring me what I want. So will you if you wish to surpass him."

Despite her fear, she rolled her eyes and sighed again.

"And you wouldn't tell me of any other way of learning this Shout," she said.

"It cannot be learned elsewhere," he replied. "It is of my own making."

"Of course." She glared at the center eye floating above her. "Why are you doing this anyway? Miraak was your champion, and you're just tossing him aside."

"He has served me long and well," he explained. "But he grows restless under my guidance."

"You've kept him trapped for centuries upon centuries," she said. "Why wouldn't he 'grow restless'?"

"His desire to return to your world would spread my influence more widely," he said. "But it would also set him free from my direct control. It may be time to replace him with a more loyal servant. One who still appreciates the gifts that I have to offer."

Her eyes narrowed further, and she clenched her fists, squelching the tiny flames that were sparking from her fingertips.

"I'm not going to be your servant or your champion," she spat.

"You don't appear to have a choice," he countered. "Send the Skaal shaman to me, and I will gift you the final Word."

Without waiting for her reply, he disappeared, leaving her alone with the book.

Telyra stepped closer to it and flipped the cover page. The spread looked like that of a Word Wall, and like the Word Walls she found, one of the words glowed and released coils of light that wrapped around her and disappeared into her body. HAH. The word resonated in her mind, and as if fitting puzzle pieces, it paired with GOL to further the Shout.

After she closed the book, her gaze blurred and darkened like it had when she'd been forced out of the realm by Miraak's Seekers, until she couldn't see anything at all.

She felt arms wrap around her before her vision returned. Blinking away the fuzziness, Telyra found herself being held up by Erik who looked at her worried.

"I wish you'd stop doing that," he said, giving Telyra a forced smile. "Are you okay?"

Telyra nodded, though she felt herself shaking. Erik must've noticed as he hadn't yet let go of her. She pulled out of his arms and looked at Neloth just as he began to speak.

"Did you actually learn what you needed to know by reading that Black Book?"

"I suppose so," she replied, looking down at the book still on the pedestal. "I spoke to Hermaeus Mora. He gave me the second Word of Bend Will, but I still need the third."

"You talked to him?" Erik asked.

She nodded.

"You're still acting surprisingly sane, too," Neloth remarked. "Did he ask anything of you? He does not offer knowledge freely."

"He wants the 'secrets of the Skaal,'" she replied, scowling. "In return, he'll give me the third Word."

Neloth scoffed. "What secrets could they have worth keeping from old Mora? Sounds like a bargain to me. Hermaeus Mora learns some fascinating new ways to skin a horker, and you become the second most powerful Dragonborn that ever lived."

"If I can get the Skaal to agree," Telyra said.

Neloth hummed in response and turned to leave. Telyra grabbed the Black Book and forced it into her pack before moving to follow Neloth. Erik grabbed her wrist before she managed a second step.

"Wait," he said. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, isn't this exactly what Storn warned us about? It sounds like you're 'following Miraak's path.'"

"I know," she said, pulling her arm from him and looking down. "But I don't know what else to do."

"I just... Be careful," he said. "I don't want you to end up stuck in Apocrypha for thousands of years. Who would go adventuring with me?"

He smiled and forced a laugh. If it was for her benefit, an attempt to lighten the situation, it didn't exactly work, but she returned the smile regardless.

"When have I ever not been careful," she joked.

The pair chuckled and left the room, following Neloth's path. When they stepped outside, Neloth was already on the ashy shoreline away from the Dwemer ruin. He was shooting lightning into the air while avoiding the ice breath of a serpentine dragon.

It caught sight of Telyra and spoke. "Miraak has commanded your death. So it shall be."

Telyra sighed. "You've got to be shitting me."

The dragon lay dead, and as if summoned, Miraak phased through the air and stood next to its disintegrating body just in time to capture the dragon's soul. He rested his hand on the dragon's snout.

"Again?" Erik said. "Can we attack this time?"

Telyra sighed. "No."

"Do you ever wonder if it hurts?" he asked, watching the dragon's body turn to illuminated ash. "To have one's soul ripped out like that?"

"It's not something I want to think about," Telyra admitted.

"It crosses my mind often," he said. "His name was Krosulhah."

She crossed her arms and looked over at Miraak.

"So, you've moved from sending cultists to sending dragons?" she remarked.

"I never sent cultists after you," he replied, glancing at her with his head slightly tilted.

"Uh, yes, you did," Erik argued.

Telyra furrowed her brows. "They looked just like the cultists from your temple," she explained. "They attacked me, calling me the False Dragonborn, saying I was 'but a shadow' of you. I found a note on their bodies. They had orders to kill me."

"I assure you," Miraak said, "I would never lower myself to such methods."

Telyra raised a brow and pointed at the dragon.

"A dragon is a far more formidable opponent," Miraak said. "To send mere mortal followers would be an insult to a fellow dovahkiin."

"Then why did they come after me?"

He clasped his hands behind his back and watched as the last embers of the dragon disappeared.

"Perhaps Hermaeus Mora is responsible. He is, no doubt, displeased with my attempting to escape his grasp but is unwilling to dispose of me without a proper replacement."

"And he needed a way of bringing me here," she said, frowning.

"And now," Miraak began, "you must die so that I can be free. You have already relieved the Wind Stone of my control. I imagine you will do the same with the rest of the Stones."

"You're enthralling people to build shrines so you can take over Solstheim," she retorted. "I can't just walk away from that."

"Why?" he asked, his tone sounding genuine. "In what way are you affected?"

"I don't have to be affected to want to stop something morally wrong," she countered.

"Being trapped for eons is morally wrong," he said, his tone melancholic. "My only means of escape now is your soul."

With those ominous words, he again disappeared.


	4. Shattered

The ash in the air fell like snow after being disturbed with the weight of the dragon's body. Knocked from the skies and too damaged to return, the ancient dragon roared and Shouted fire at Telyra.

She cast a ward in front of her, catching the fire just before it struck her. Blinded by the light, she hid her face into the crook of her arm, and the impact pushed her heels into the ground. She could feel the heat of its attack through her spell. His Voice was stronger than most dragons they fought, and he was certainly putting all of his power into it, likely angry at the impending defeat.

Fire still pressed against her ward, and she could feel it weakening, cracking like glass.

" _FEIM ZII GRON!_ " Telyra Shouted.

Just as her ward burst, her body became transparent, and the fire passed through her as if she wasn't there. She felt nothing, not the heat, not the ground beneath her, not even her heart pounding in her ears with the adrenaline of battle.

The dragon attempted to slash at her with his claws, but they simply hit air. He roared in response as she rushed forward. In his neck, there was a tear in his scales where Erik had hit him with arrows. That'd been their strategy since they began hunting dragons: aim for the throat.

Standing beside the dragon's head was dangerous, even with her Become Ethereal Shout active. With her hands raised, she gathered her magicka, building it up until her fingertips burned with cold, and she let loose a blast of ice. Her ethereal shield vanished with the release of her spell, and she could've easily been crushed by the dragon if Erik hadn't thought to distract it with a barrage of arrows.

Her spell wore away at the wound on the dragon's neck, and he roared in pain before succumbing to her magic. His body became limp and fell into the ash before it began to disintegrate.

"You hastened your death with every dragon you felled," Miraak's voice sounded behind her as the dragon soul rushed passed her.

She turned, her eyes narrowed and her hands still thrumming with magicka. His voice was different than previous times he has stolen her dragon souls; it was more present and lacked the other-worldly echo it typically carried. _He_ was more present.

"You're doing this now?" she asked.

"Just say the word," Erik said.

Miraak remained a good distance from her and made no reaction to Erik aiming at him with his bow.

"You have provided me enough souls to come here with a portion of my power," he explained. "It is enough for me to claim your soul and return in full."

"So, we are doing this," Telyra said, sighing.

Miraak bowed his head slightly. "I have been watching you, _laat dovahkiin_. You could have been mighty," he said, "if fate had decreed otherwise."

"So, you're letting 'fate' dictate what you do?" she asked.

"This is the only way," he argued.

"Don't do this," she pleaded.

"This is the only way I can be free."

Telyra took a step forward and raised her hands in front of her. Erik still stood behind Miraak with his bow drawn, waiting for the moment Miraak moved to attack.

Miraak held out his own arms; the air around them distorted, and a sword and staff appeared in his hands.

Telyra didn't wait for his attack; she put herself on the offensive and sent a fireball burning towards him. It landed against his ward that he conjured at the last moment and released a booming sound and licks of fire around him. Meanwhile, Erik released his arrow and quickly nocked a second; his first was merely smacked aside with the sword in Miraak's hand.

"I want nothing to do with you," Miraak said, turning his head toward Erik.

With his sword-hand, Miraak cast a spell, summoning a circle of the tentacles that infected Apocrypha. They flicked at the air and wrapped around the dark blue and green mass that was growing in the center. The sickly-shaped dorsal fin appeared first, then its head straightened and pushed through the ashen sand.

"Deal with him," Miraak ordered the Lurker.

It turned to Erik and roared before stomping toward him.

Telyra shot another fireball, aiming for the Lurker this time. It exploded against its slimy skin and made it stumble but seemed otherwise unaffected.

"I'll handle this!" Erik shouted over the sound of another fireball. "Take care of Miraak!"

Telyra gritted her teeth, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Miraak and the Lurker. She trusted Erik's skill, but she couldn't help but worry.

" _FUS RO DAH_!"

Miraak's Shout slammed against her body, sending her backward through the air. She landed with a hard grunt, the breath forced out of her as her back fell against the ground.

"You should be more concerned for yourself, _dovahkiin_ ," Miraak said.

Telyra pushed herself up to a seated position and took a deep breath.

" _FIIK LO SAH_!"

Translucent clones of Telyra surrounded Miraak and closed in on him; they couldn't physically attack, but they provided a good distraction. Miraak attempted to slice through the clones, though it had no effect. Telyra took the opportunity to return to her feet and began hurling fatally-sharp spears of ice at Miraak.

They passed through her clones, turning them to smoke, before reaching Miraak. He managed to catch them with his sword, and they shattered against the metallic green blade.

"You will have to do better than that," he taunted.

She glared at him. "I'm not losing this fight, Miraak."

Erik eventually finished off the Lurker and moved to aid Telyra, but he wasn't given much of a chance.

"This battle is between the _laat dovahkiin_ and me," Miraak hissed between heavy breaths. " _FUS RO DAH_!"

The force of Miraak's Shout sent Erik flying backward, smashing into a broken, rotted stump. The wood burst as his body crashed against it, and he slid across the sand before going limp.

"Erik!"

Telyra lurched toward where Erik landed but stopped just before running into a wall of tentacles summoned through Miraak's staff.

"I told you," Miraak said. "You. And me."

The two entered a dance of magical attacks, switching who led every few steps. Magicka hung in the atmosphere, feeling like static and smelling of ozone and embers. Their explosions echoed off the hills and sounded like thunder and broken glass; it pounded against Telyra's ears in time with her heartbeat.

It didn't take long for the pair to grow exhausted. Sweat dripping and breath heavy, both Miraak and Telyra stumbled through their attacks, and their Shouts were near-whispers.

The battle became a blur, and Telyra wasn't sure when or how it ended. His sword and staff were half-buried in the gray sand, out of his reach, and they both expended all of their magicka. She had him pinned under her, knees squeezing into his waist and dagger held to his throat.

One movement, one quick draw across his neck, and she could have ended it. But her hand wouldn't move.

His chest rose and fell in sharp spurts, and given his stillness, he seemed to be as dazed as she was. She stared into the slits in the eyes of his mask, catching just a glint of light reflecting off his pupils.

Without a thought, her empty hand reached for his mask; his own grabbed her wrist, keeping her from removing it. They remained like that for a moment, trapped in a trance Telyra didn't understand.

"You..." Miraak finally spoke, breathless. "You should not have hesitated."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he turned to ash, disappearing as if he'd just stolen another dragon soul and leaving her with her hands and knees in the sand.

Once she regained her awareness, she scrambled to her feet and ran to where Erik still lay unconscious. She lifted his head slightly and felt the thick, sticky wetness of blood.

"Fuck," she breathed, reaching under his jaw to search for a pulse. "You better not be..."

A soft thrum pressed against her fingers, and she sighed, slumping forward in relief. Her heart continued beating hard, though it was finally slowing as she took in deep breaths. She turned his head, parting his coppery hair and pulling a healing poultice from the satchel on her hip; she poured the bottle onto his wound, silently thanking whatever god might've been listening that he hadn't been hurt worse.

"Gods," she mumbled. "I couldn't... I couldn't do it, Erik."

Telyra turned him back over and rested his head on her lap. She brushed the hair out of his face and gave him a quick look over, checking for any other notable injuries. Beyond a few bumps and bruises, he appeared relatively unharmed.

She lowered her head, and sighed, her shoulders sinking. "You're going to be so disappointed in me."


	5. Just Listen

"I'm thinking," Telyra said, words curt.

Chatter filled the tavern, bouncing off the stone walls and disappearing into half-emptied mugs and steins. Buzzing, clicking, clanking, every bit of metal hitting wood or die spilling out of someone's hand seemed to trip her line of thought.

She glanced over at Erik who was watching her with a look of concern.

"Telly," he said, soft.

"Don't," she warned, rolling her eyes.

Telyra had grown out of the nickname, but Erik revived it whenever he was preparing a lecture or trying to talk her out of doing something. It only worked about half the time.

He let out a resigned sigh and waved down the waitress.

"Ashfire mead, please," he ordered.

"Any food with that?" she asked him in a thick Dunmeri accent.

Erik shook his head and returned his attention to Telyra. She looked away from him and acted as though her mug was more interesting than anything he had to say. Her fingernail dragged along the lip, causing ripples in what little drink she had left.

"Please," he said. "Just talk this through with me. I'm trying to understand why."

She dragged her eyes back to Erik.

"What else is there to talk about?" she asked before downing the rest of her drink. "I just—I can't kill him."

"So, you're, what? Going to talk to him?"

Without giving him an answer, Telyra leaned back in her chair and kept her eyes fixed on the table.

"He won't listen to you," he said. "He wants to control Solstheim. He already took control of people's minds!"

"He wants to be free," she retorted, her eyes shooting up at him.

"So he can control Solstheim," he said, taking a breath's pause in between each word for emphasis.

"I don't believe that."

" _You_ said that that's what he said," Erik argued. "Remember? The first time you went into Apocrypha."

"My gut says that's not truly what he wants."

Telyra leaned forward, resting her arms on the table as Erik let out a defeated sigh.

"You remember what my father always said."

"'Always trust your gut,'" Erik said. "Fine."

The waitress returned with two drinks, placing one in front of each of them. When Telyra looked at her confused, the woman simply said, "You looked like you needed another," and walked away before Telyra could thank her.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I'm going to go to Apocrypha and talk to him."

"You think Mora is just going to let you do that?"

"That's… what I'm trying to figure out," she said. "I don't know much about the Princes, but I'm sure he knows all of what goes on in his plane."

"Maybe there's a way to distract him," he suggested. "The Skaal might have some ideas."

She shook her head. "I can't tell them. They trust me, but they don't _trust_ me. They trust that I'll be able to do anything they ask of me, but they wouldn't trust me with making a decision like this."

"You're probably right."

Head falling into her hands, Telyra sighed. How could one fool a Daedric Prince? She knew of no magic powerful enough, neither spell nor enchantment. And it wasn't like she'd been given a lesson on the Princes at the College.

"Well," Erik began, pulling her attention back to him, "you said Mora wanted the secrets of the Skaal, right? And he'll give you another word to that Shout?"

She groaned. "It's not a conversation I wanted to think about."

"If you can convince them to give up the secrets, maybe that would be enough to distract him."

"What do you mean?"

"If he's too busy absorbing the knowledge of the Skaal," he explained, "he might not be able to keep an eye on Miraak."

She perked her head up. "That might be worth trying."

"I have some good ideas on occasion," he said through a satisfied grin.

"Though, that feels like I'm betraying the Skaal," she said, her smile falling.

"I suppose you have to decide which is more important to you. Saving Miraak, or keeping the Skaal's trust."

Though she pursed her lips as if trying to decide, she knew she already had her answer.

The Black Book was heavy in her lap as she sat cross-legged on the floor of Storn's house. Erik was keeping an eye on the exchange between Mora and the Skaal; she'd managed to slip away as Storn and Mora traded words, too enthralled in one another to notice her. Restlessness filled her, as though she were in a hurry, but she knew she had time. Apocrypha moved much quicker than time on Tamriel; what felt like hours to her there were mere minutes on Nirn, according to Erik.

With a grimace, she opened the book, and as expected, she was wrapped in tentacles and pulled from her body and into the book. She landed, as she had the first time, on a platform looking out into the open sea of green sludge. Only no Miraak or seekers or dragon obstructed her view. She was alone.

After getting to her feet, she warily wandered to the center where Miraak had stood before. He was certainly here, she could feel him deep in her core, her mortal dragonsoul reaching for the only other of its kind. Beyond that internal call, she felt nothing, not even Mora's watchful eye—or rather, eyes, as he liked to appear.

A soft thumping echoed in the air, steady, and growing louder. Through the ever-present off-colored fog, Telyra caught sight of a blue glint, vibrant enough to be noticed in the poor lighting of Apocrypha. Soon, it was close enough to take the shape of a dragon.

She stepped backward, giving him plenty of space to land. The air whipped passed with the beating of his wings as he lowered onto the platform. Miraak slid down from the dragon's back and approached Telyra.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "I no longer feel Mora watching."

"He's speaking with the Skaal," she said. "They're going to give him their secrets."

"How did he convince them to share it? He's been pining for it for eras."

"I convinced them," she explained. "Mora promised to teach me the final word to Bend Will in exchange."

He scoffed.

"Why are you here?" he demanded. "Were you hoping to make up for your hesitation?"

"I just came to talk," she said, holding her hands up and lowering her head.

"Then talk."

She returned her eyes to him, straightening her stance. His dragon remained behind him, watching the exchange and appearing ready to attack should she prove a liar.

"I want to help you."

Miraak's body stiffened, and he didn't answer for a time. Whether he was simply in shock or gauging the honesty (or possible lack thereof) in her words, she wasn't sure.

"Why?" he finally asked, suspicion dripping from the single word.

"Because I think all you want is freedom," she replied. "I think you'd conquer Solstheim to get it, but if you had other means…"

"So, even after I've attacked you, stolen your dragon souls, and tried to kill you," he listed off, "you would still help me?"

She nodded, and he laughed.

"You are either incredibly naïve or doubt your ability to defeat me."

"I defeated you once—"

"You _almost_ defeated me," he said. "It is not only the technical skill that is required, but also the mental fortitude to deliver the final blow. And you failed."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I'm reconsidering my offer."

He took a step closer to her. "Why would you help me?" he asked, this time without malice.

"You're the only other person like me," she said, her ears reddening. "I came into this legend alone and confused. And the only people who know anything about it are, well, assholes. And don't get me wrong, you're an asshole too, but you're the only one I know who has a true understanding of being Dragonborn."

He laughed again, but it soon quieted, and she wished she could see his face.

"If you truly wish to help me," he began, his words hesitant, "then I will accept it."

Telyra held her hand out to him, and he wrapped his around her forearm as she did the same. They released each other and stood in an awkward silence.

"As a means of showing my trust in you," Miraak finally spoke, "I'll gift to you the final word of Bend Will."

"I… Thank you."

He bowed his head, and after a moment, glowing white wisps danced around his body before floating to her and disappearing into her body.

 _DOV._

"We are now at each other's mercy," he remarked. "I pray to whatever gods may be listening that you do not make me regret this."


End file.
